


Lunar Cycles

by chennychenchinchen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Hallucinations, M/M, Violence, mentions of previous character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chennychenchinchen/pseuds/chennychenchinchen
Summary: Continuation of my BAE2018 fic,Poppies.20 years later, Jongdae still finds himself stuck in the past. With time running out, he'll find Chanyeol and bring justice to Baekhyun himself.





	Lunar Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, so please pardon any mistakes <3

**_New Moon_ **

 

-

 

To say that Park Chanyeol was completely and utterly infatuated with his soulmate was an understatement. He loved everything about him- the softness of his cheeks, the effortless aurora of charm he exuded, the silkiness of his hair, the way his eyes would tighten into beautiful crescents when he smiled. They were two pieces of a puzzle who had found their way to each other and refused to disconnect. 

 

They were both 19 at the time that they first met. Despite being below the age of knowing exactly who their soulmate is, the universe had proved time and time again that it wanted them together. Park Chanyeol didn’t want it any different.

 

Park Chanyeol’s soulmate frequently wondered about his past lives. It wasn’t uncommon to find him pouring through record books from near and far, searching relentlessly for any hints of who he used to be.

 

“I wish I could remember,” his soulmate often sighed. “I wish, I just  _ wish _ I could remember them. All of my past lives. All of the tragedies and the triumphs, all of the good times and sour atmospheres. Wouldn’t life be so much more meaningful then, Chanyeol? Living while carrying so much more baggage about who you have been.” His shy yet contagious smile appeared on his face once again, and Chanyeol couldn’t help but smile along. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than his soulmate’s happiness.

 

“I promise I’ll help you remember.”

 

Chanyeol gifted his soulmate a poppy for the first time that day. 

 

His soulmate loved poppies.

 

-

 

**_Waxing Crescent_ **

 

-

 

_ You see that I’m finally happy for once in my life and then you decide that I’m not giving you enough attention….  _

 

_ Seeing you two makes me feel lonelier than actually being alone ever has….  _

 

_ You’re an awful person….  _

 

_ I regret ever knowing you... _

 

Jongdae awoke with a gasp, skin slick with a cold sweat. Sitting up with a grimace, his eyes were met with the sight of moonlight seeping through spaces between the curtains, subtly illuminating the bedroom around him. The heaviness in his chest lightened the slightest bit after glancing to his side to see that his soulmate was still fast asleep. He removed Minseok’s arm from around his waist as he inhaled deeply, holding the breath to a count of three before releasing it through pursed lips. It was a method his therapist introduced him to and it helped immensely when things like this occurred. This wasn’t the first time he had a night terror, after all.

 

He changed his clothes quietly as to not rouse his sleeping soulmate. The alarm clock on the dresser glared a bright  _ 3:12 am  _ in stiff, neon letters. It was much too early to be preparing to leave the house, much less to be awake at all, but there was no way Jongdae would subject himself to trying to fall asleep again. It would be fruitless anyway, as he would instead spend that time laying wide awake as a victim to his own thoughts. 

 

With fresh clothes on his body and shoes tied tightly around his feet, Jongdae left a note for Minseok on the kitchen counter before he was out the door.

 

It had been 20 years. 20 years since Park Chanyeol had waltzed his way into the lives of the workers of  _ The One _ café, confidently claiming to have knowledge of things he shouldn’t have known. 20 years since Byun Baekhyun had perished at his soulmate’s very fingertips. 20 years since Park Chanyeol had waltzed out of their lives unscathed, leaving a trail of endless pain and hurt in his wake. 

 

Jongdae and Minseok were both in their 40’s now. The feelings of invincibility were gone along with the majority of their youth, their lives seeming to have slowed down a considerable amount. Their time together was not  _ boring _ , per say, but the days of running a 6am to 6pm café often blended together seamlessly. Jongdae often felt as if his life was just a series of gondola rides to the promise of tomorrow with nothing in between.

 

The walk from their house to the graveyard balanced on the line of reasonable and long, half illuminated by street lights that became fewer and farther between when Jongdae reached the true outskirts of the city. 

 

He hated how alone he was with his thoughts. His thoughts were monsters, reaching into every nook and cranny of his life and infecting everything around him with the reminder of fleeting yet painful memories. 

 

It was when Jongdae was walking alongside a strip of apartments that he saw a flash of movement to his left, right underneath the street lights of the parallel sidewalk. His breath hitched in his throat, feet suddenly cemented to the ground beneath him. Slowly, he turned his head only slightly as to remain inconspicuous.

 

Across the street stood a tall figure, his shadow taking a sizable chunk out of the light cast by the lamp post. He held a leash attached to a small dog that was sniffing around in the grass, his face shielded by the shadow of a black cap. 

 

Jongdae squinted, heart panging for a look at the person’s features. Even though the figure was logically a stranger, his presence somehow felt so  _ familiar _ . Jongdae felt the same anger from 20 years ago bubbling up in his stomach, a flame undying. 

 

Could it really be  _ him _ ? 

 

Was he really  _ here _ , in this particular neighborhood, walking his dog at this ungodly time of night? 

 

The stranger looked up and turned his head to glance across the street. Jongdae held his breath, eyes rapidly scanning the stranger’s face. Despite the weird shadows cast by his hat, he could still see the man’s facial features somewhat clearly. He had a thin nose, prominent and puffy eyebags resting beneath sharp eyes. Though the corners of his lips pointed upwards much like Jongdae’s own, his eyes were wary and defensive, as if he knew Jongdae was staring at him and he was daring him to keep looking.

 

It wasn’t him. His mind was just playing tricks on him again.

 

Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding, Jongdae pulled his vision down to the sidewalk in front of him and continued on his way.

 

His body found its way into the cemetery on autopilot, mind not catching up until he was already at the grave. It looked the same as it did last time he visited, grass trimmed short as to leave the headstone as the centerpiece. The headstone itself bordered on both ornate and simple, tall enough to reach Jongdae’s mid-thigh. He and Minseok had agreed to not keep flowers at the grave. Though it was a nice sentiment, there would be too much open area for hidden meanings and silent reminders of what had happened. It would burden them too much psychologically.

 

“Hi, Baekhyunnie,” he began timidly, sitting down a respectful distance from the headstone. “How have you been? It hasn’t been too long since I last visited, only a few days... I promise I’ll visit more frequently. I’ll bring Minseok along next time, too. He’s been really busy lately, developing an updated menu for the café and all, so please don’t take his absence as an offense.” Jongdae bit his lip in thought. “The weather’s been pleasant lately, hasn’t it? You’d know it better than anyone, being out here in the elements and all…”

 

He didn’t know exactly where he was going with that thought, opting to move on instead.

 

“I dreamed about you again. About the words you said to me that day… the day we fought.” Jongdae spoke quietly to the stone. “Sometimes I have these horrible thoughts that my brain conjures up to convince myself that it’s not my fault after all. That even if I hadn’t said what I said and pushed you to be in a relationship with that... that  _ monster _ , you still would have ended up like this after all. It’s so awful of me to think that, I know. So don’t feel sorry for me when I tell you about my issues. It’s just the guilt I deserve to deal with.”

 

He threaded his fingers through his hair as he drew his knees up into his chest, tugging on the locks in frustration. A quiet breeze rolled over the land causing the grass to tickle at the soles of his shoes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the headstone anymore, opting to close his eyes instead as he continued speaking barely louder than a whisper.

 

“I’m so, so paranoid, Baekhyun. I see him everywhere. He’s around every corner, in front of me every time I look up. And what makes it especially terrifying is that I want to catch him  _ so badly _ . I want justice for you more than I thought it was possible to want something. But I can’t even trust my mind anymore, because he’s just everywhere. And how am I supposed to save you and stop this vicious cycle of murder if I’m not even sure if what I’m seeing is reality?”

 

He buried his face in his knees. How pathetic he must look, a man in his 40’s grieving like a child. He supposed that grief knows no age.

 

“It’s been almost 21 years since your passing and our time to save your new lifetime is running out. Soon that bastard will make it a mission to end your life again, and if we don’t intervene soon the cycle will go on and you’ll die again,” Jongdae choked out a pitiful laugh. He could feel the violent shaking of his hands against his scalp.  “After what I did to you, I thought the least I could do to make up for it would be to stop that bastard and end the cycle once and for all, and yet it seems I’m even struggling to do that. Pretty pathetic, right? I’ve been trying my hardest, searching around the internet for any hint of your whereabouts. It would be so much more helpful if you were some famous person, you know? Then maybe you'd be safer, too…”

 

The sun just barely peeked over the horizon during the absence of words that followed, gracing the sky with lighter hues of blue and illuminating soft, floating wisps of white. It was the song of birds that brought Jongdae out of his silent trance. He stole a glance at his watch.  _ 5:48 am _ . The café was going to open soon for the morning commuters, one of their busiest times of day, and he was going to be late. It would be plain cruel of him to leave Minseok to manage that alone, even if their employees were the ones working through most of the madness.

 

Jongdae stood up as he cleared his throat. “ _ The One _ is going to open soon so I have to go now, but I promise I’ll find him soon. I’ll do everything I can to stop him, no matter what it takes. Then you can truly rest in peace, Baekhyun.”

 

He had promised himself that he would stop crying at Baekhyun’s grave a long time ago and yet the sickly feeling of tears welling in his eyes refused to disappear. He turned around quickly and exited the graveyard with a final goodbye and promise of return. 

 

He wouldn’t let Baekhyun see him cry. 

 

-

 

It had been another uneventful day at  _ The One _ . Their brand had expanded greatly over the years; the decision to open up a second café across town eventually lead to the opening of a third, and then a fourth in a popular mall, and then a fifth a few hours away in a neighboring city. Their popularity and reputation remained untainted and it was clear to everyone that they would only continue to expand in the years to come.

 

Jongdae had been working exclusively in the kitchen for years now. He spent his hours mixing cake batter and popping pastries in the oven, sometimes with his employees but often alone. It was better than working around other people where his paranoid brain was bound to mix up the faces of those around him with the one that haunted his dreams. He could barely concentrate upon even hearing the word ‘americano.’ If they weren’t staples of every coffee shop he swore he would force Minseok to remove americanos from the menu altogether.

 

There was a knock on the kitchen door, an employee peeking their head in to tell Jongdae that they were about to start closing up the shop. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was nearly 6 in the evening. He had lost track of time. Again.

 

Jongdae exited the kitchen after pressing the ‘start’ button on the dishwasher, pulling out a chair across from where Minseok was seated at one of their café’s tables. The other didn’t look up, immersed in the words written on the stack of papers in front of him and tapping a yellow highlighter against his chin.

 

“Hi,” Jongdae said plainly with a grin, resting his head on his crossed arms.

 

“Hi,” Minseok replied, reciprocating his grin as he spared his soulmate a few glances up from his paperwork.

 

“Whatcha working on?”

 

“Just rereading the contract for the new big storefront we’re leasing. Our sixth child is coming summer of this year, can you believe it?” Minseok grinned toothily as Jongdae chuckled, opening the cap of his highlighter and bringing the tip of it to the page. 

 

“It almost seems like it was yesterday that we opened the first café,” Jongdae nodded, nostalgia welling up in his chest. “The three of us.” Minseok’s grin wavered for a moment. His highlighter stopped gliding across the page, ink staining a spot on the paper with a darker, unpleasant yellow. 

 

“Yeah, we really had no idea what we were doing.” And then the highlighter was skating across the page once again.

 

“We really didn’t,” Jongdae hummed. His eyes fell on the papers Minseok was intently staring at, following the movement of his pen like he was hypnotized.

 

It was quiet for a while. The world outside of the café was growing darker by the minute, the sidewalk across the street succumbing to the silent touch of darkness. A few gnats hovered around the windows, desperate for a taste of their light. The café itself was empty save for them, the lights behind the counter switched off. The only thing fending off the curse of true silence was the sound of Minseok’s highlighter skidding on paper. It was a strange yet peaceful ambiance.

 

“It’s almost been 21 years, you know,” Jongdae found himself staring uneasily.

 

Minseok tsked, looking up from his paperwork again. “How could I forget?”

 

Jongdae shrugged. “I was just thinking… the new Baekhyun is nearing 21 years old soon, which means that Ch… Chanyeol is surely hovering around him by now.” Even after 20 years it was difficult to say his name. “We're running out of time to set things right, to find and stop him once and for all. To get justice for Baek.”

 

Minseok’s lips thinned, eyes breaking contact and flickering back to the paperwork. “...Yea.”

 

“A-And I was just thinking,” Jongdae felt queasy all of a sudden, anxious to make his soulmate listen. “Since we don't have much time left, we should put finding him as our priority. It won't take long if we just dedicate a week or two for searching, and I'm sure our employees wouldn't mind the extra hours! They're all more than capable of running the cafés by themselves, and we could even appoint a few temporary head managers. We’ll find him soon enough, I know we will! We just have to dedicate a little bit of time.” He stomach churned as he waited eagerly for Minseok’s response. He had it all planned out, surely Minseok would agree to it! It was such a pressing matter that there was no way he would be able to say no. They were in it together, after all. But all of Jongdae’s hope faded away at the sight of his soulmate’s falling smile.

 

“Jongdae…” Minseok started carefully. His face was contorted into an expression of uneasiness and extreme hesitancy. “I don't know how to tell this to you but…. That…. That's just not possible.”

 

Jongdae felt as if all the air was being squeezed out of him, as if his very reason for existing was just dragged out of his throat.

 

“What?” he choked out quietly. He felt his eyes madly twitching, fingers beginning to shake. In all of his years of existence he had never felt so hurt. “What do you mean? How could you even say that? You’re willing to forget everything that he did? Don’t you… don’t you even  _ care  _ about Baekhyun?”

 

Minseok capped his pen, setting it down on the table with an audible tap. “I know that getting justice for Baekhyun is really important to you, Dae. And a long time ago I felt the same way, harbored the same anger. Part of me still wants to go along with you and live out your fairytale in which we can magically turn everything that is wrong right. But fairytales are tales for a reason,” he drummed his fingers on the table before meeting Jongdae’s gaze sharply. “It just isn’t  _ realistic _ , Jongdae. We’re opening up our sixth café in just a few short months. Even if we appointed head managers for each store, who could we possibly trust to handle all the preparations for the new café?”

 

“Well-”

 

“And sure, let’s say that we put the work aside and delay the opening. But for all we know Baekhyun’s soul could be in another country entirely, and then what? There’s just way too much ground to cover. We’ve been on the lookout for any semblance of them for 20 years, Jongdae. What makes you think that we’ll suddenly find them in a few short weeks?” 

 

“I-”

 

“And sure, even if we did miraculously manage to find where they are, how could we possibly stop the cycle? Why would the new Baekhyun trust us, a couple of random men who show up out of nowhere claiming that his soulmate has been killing him to stay 21 forever? He’d think we’re lunatics no matter how much evidence we’d produce.”

 

“We could kill him. We could kill Chanyeol. That would end the cycle, and the new Baekhyun wouldn’t even have to know what happened,” Jongdae whispered, finding himself shocked at his own words as soon as they left his mouth. It wasn’t something he thought he would ever have the capacity to say, much less be so absolutely serious about, but he didn’t take them back. 

 

“Don’t…. don’t say that, Jongdae. I don’t know if you’re trying to be funny, but don’t say that,” Minseok’s eyes flashed with uncertainty. He sounded significantly more nervous. “Even if you’re being serious right now, you wouldn’t be able to do it if the time came. I know you wouldn’t.”

 

“I don’t know if I mean it or not. But what I’m getting from this conversation is that you don’t care either way,” Jongdae spat bitterly. “You’re perfectly aware of the fact that Park Chanyeol killed Baekhyun and is  _ going  _ to kill Baekhyun over and over again for  _ god knows how long  _ and you’re just fine with sitting on the sidelines and turning a blind eye to everything that has happened when we’re literally the only people in this entire world who can stop him.”

 

“I want to stop him too, Jongdae! How could you possibly accuse me of that? Do you think that I don’t miss him every day? Do you think I don’t regret what happened? Do you think I don’t blame myself too?” Minseok was visibly frustrated, tears welling in his eyes as his tone grew louder. “I’m just thinking realistically here, and it’s just  _ not possible _ -.”

 

“I  _ know _ it’s unrealistic, but the chance is still there, and that’s all that matters!” Jongdae knew he sounded desperate, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Isn’t it better that we at least try while we still can? Try before another life is taken? Try before the cycle repeats?” Tears were leaking down his cheeks before he even noticed they were present. “We can’t give up, we just  _ can’t _ . All three of us have suffered so much, and for what? For us to just ignore it? Do you want other people to go through what we went through?”

 

Minseok rubbed his eyes with his palms. He had lost his concentration on the paperwork a long time ago, opting to push it aside. “Dae… this is going to sound really, really horrible, so please don’t lash out on me again. But maybe…. maybe fate is letting this happen for a reason. Maybe we shouldn’t interfere because the cycle will end on its own. Maybe our Baekhyun was a soldier that had to be lost in order to win the war.” Minseok solemnly whispered. 

 

“Wh… What did you just say?” 

 

Minseok reached out to encase Jongdae’s shaking hands with his own, gripping them only tighter when his soulmate attempted to pull away. 

 

“Listen…. I’m as hurt by this situation as you are, Dae. I would give absolutely anything to have Baekhyun back with us, working behind the counter and giving input on decor choices for our new café. And I am in no way insinuating that we ever forget about Baekhyun when I say this, but... right now it’s long overdue that we put our own lives completely back together. We can’t keep punishing ourselves over the past forever.” 

 

And part of Jongdae wanted to argue. Part of Jongdae wanted to pretend that everything was alright, pretend that their lives  _ were  _ completely back together. But he would be lying to himself. 

 

How could it be normal to feel this strongly about something that happened years in the past? 

 

How could it be normal to still remember every feature of Chanyeol’s face as vividly as if he’d last seen him yesterday? 

 

20 years had passed, and yet his thirst for justice still triumphed over the hovering reminder of what is and isn’t realistic in their sorry world. It had been so long, how could it be normal for him to still be so completely and utterly  _ broken _ ?

 

“I know you, Jongdae. I know that the reason you still feel so strongly about getting justice is because his death scarred you. You still blame yourself for being a catalyst even though it wasn’t on purpose,” Minseok swiped his thumb back and forth across Jongdae’s knuckles. “You hallucinate seeing Chanyeol everywhere. You try to hide it, but I know you do. I see the way you freeze up with his name on your lips, always looking a split second away from calling it out. I mean, it’s been 20 years and you still can’t even make a  _ god damn _ americano because it reminds you too much about what happened. You still think about it as if it happened yesterday, and it’s tearing you apart from the inside out.” He reached one of his hands up, cupping Jongdae’s cheek. “I’m being harsh because I’m worried for you, and I’m worried for you because I love you. I’m scared for your mental health. I don’t want you to be hurt again by not finding him.”

 

Jongdae nodded, eyes downcast as he processed his soulmate’s words. “I get it. I’m sorry for lashing out at you. You’re just... being realistic,” he leaned into Minseok’s touch. “Just… just give me a week. I’ll search for them for just one week and come right back. And then afterwards I promise to put all my effort towards getting better mentally. Please.” Minseok looked as if he wanted to protest, but there must have been a particular degree of desperation visible in Jongdae’s eyes that night, as he instead nodded.

 

“Okay. Starting tomorrow, you have one week to search for them.”

 

-

 

He left at the crack of dawn, planting a goodbye kiss on Minseok’s lips through the open window of their car before pulling out into the street. On the dashboard was a list of every florist in South Korea. In a country as small as theirs, visiting all of them in his search wouldn’t be a problem. 

 

Buildings rapidly grew smaller as he drove on, the sidewalk eventually tapering off into nothing. The highway was long and seemed to never end. Truthfully, Jongdae hated road trips, but for Baekhyun he would bear it.

 

The next few days passed in a blur. He bounced from town to town, stopping at every florist in his route. “Have you sold anyone poppies recently?” he’d ask the store owners. They often answered no, but he would show them a picture he had printed of Chanyeol to ask if they had seen him anyway. No florist he had visited in the first 2 days had given him any leads, nor had any of the people he stopped around town.

 

Though he had budgeted money to stay overnight at motels, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. The adrenaline in his veins was flowing too rapidly to allow him to feel tired, instead spending the time in the car driving to the next town. Most of the money he set aside for food also went unspent, only having the stomach to eat past midnight when greasy fast food places were the only options available.

 

By the 3rd day Jongdae began to hallucinate Chanyeol even more frequently than before. Every time he turned his head there was someone who looked just familiar enough to make his stomach lurch, someone he had to stop and stare at to make sure it wasn’t him. It never was Chanyeol, though, as eventually their real faces would become visible again and Jongdae would move on.

 

By the 5th day Jongdae had visited nearly all of the florists on his list without any leads. His hands shook violently as he grasped the wheel, focusing all of his little remaining energy on the road. He hadn’t slept a wink for 3 days straight and could barely remember the last time he had consumed something other than cheap gas station coffee. He had talked over the phone with Minseok a few times, though Minseok was usually too busy to talk for more than a few minutes. After the other hung up, he was completely alone again.

 

He could feel his mental state deteriorating as he was reaching the end of his list. How could it be possible that he hadn't found him yet? Why was it that even after visiting more than half the florists in the country, after stopping everyone he passed on the streets, nobody had seen Chanyeol?

 

On the 6th day of his search he couldn’t stand it anymore. He ripped the photo of Chanyeol in half, the one he had been showing around to people as a reference for his search. He couldn’t bear to look at it anymore; it hurt too much to see that hellspawn of a human being smiling. And though he felt empowered as the paper was torn apart he fell into tears soon afterward, searching his car for something to fix it. It was the only proof he had that Park Chanyeol wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, how could he be so reckless?

 

At the end of the 6th day he had lost all hope. He had gone to every florist in the country, had shown numerous people Chanyeol’s face, and yet he was nowhere to be found. There was nowhere left to search.

 

Jongdae had failed.

 

It was past midnight, now the 7th day, when he pulled over by a sidewalk. He had set the entire last day aside to drive back to the city but he found himself desperate for a breath of fresh air before returning to the road. The full moon was bright and happy above him, illuminating his steps with light shadows. His mind was blank as he walked. Somehow he felt too weak to feel emotion.

 

Soon during his walk he encountered a small bridge hovering over a dark river, that of which accommodated both a road and sidewalks on either side. But what drew Jongdae out of his thoughts was the presence of another human being on that bridge.

 

The figure was leaning their elbows precariously on the railings of the small bridge. They were tall and broad, dawning an oversized black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over their head. They looked so blatantly  _ familiar _ . Jongdae’s stomach churned, though he did his best to ignore it. 

 

_ It’s not Chanyeol _ , he chanted to himself, controlling his breathing.  _ I’m just seeing things again. It’s not Chanyeol. It’s not Chanyeol. _

 

But then there was a short-lived gust of wind, blowing the stranger’s hood off his head to reveal rounded eyes and pointed ears, features that were too familiar. Despite the darkness, Jongdae knew who he was looking at. He felt his heart pounding out of his chest, his breathing growing so labored that he could barely inhale.

 

It was Park Chanyeol. The selfish bastard he had spent the past week searching for. The selfish bastard that lived to murder his own soulmate. The selfish bastard that killed his best friend. Jongdae’s hands were shaking with anger, he himself barely able to breathe. It was Park Chanyeol.

 

Another voice spoke up inside of Jongdae, questioning the authenticity of this Chanyeol. He hallucinated Chanyeol everywhere, what were the chances that this was really him? Here, of all places, conveniently at the end of his journey? It wasn’t Chanyeol. It couldn’t be Chanyeol. But as he walked closer to the man, the voice doubting him began to grow quieter and quieter. 

 

_ This is Park Chanyeol. This has to be Park Chanyeol _ .

 

His stomach churned, thoughts running a million miles per hour. This was his chance, he had to do something and to take advantage of the situation. He was going to push Chanyeol off the bridge, end the cycle once and for all.

 

But as he stepped behind him and took a deep breath, drawing his arms back in preparation for a hard shove, Chanyeol turned around and grabbed his wrists roughly.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ do you think you’re doing?” an unfamiliar voice boomed. And suddenly the person he was about to shove off the bridge was no longer Park Chanyeol, but a middle-aged man he had never seen before. 

 

It was just another hallucination.

 

Jongdae couldn’t take it. He was never going to find Park Chanyeol. Not when he could only search for him in a tiny radius when Park Chanyeol could be anywhere in the world. Not when he had so little time.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. His tears blinded him as he tore himself out of the stranger’s grip. “I t-thought you were a murderer, I was trying to save my friend, I- I’m sorry, I-” he stepped too far backwards and suddenly found himself in the street. A car honked loudly and swerved around him.

 

What was the point?

 

He couldn’t save Baekhyun, not in this world. Not in his condition.

 

What was the point?

 

Jongdae stumbled away from the man, unable to bear his presence. He pulled out his cell phone as he ran and haphazardly attempted to type in the passcode but a rock on the ground caused him to trip and fall. His phone landed a few feet away, the screen shattering upon impact. He barely noticed the deep cracks of the glass scoring his finger when he picked it up again, finally unlocking his phone and dialing a saved number.

 

“Hello?” the voice on the other end groggily answered. Jongdae was so happy to hear his soulmate’s voice that he could barely breathe. His elbows and knees were bleeding, blood streaking his limbs, but he didn’t care. “Jongdae? Are you there?”

 

“Yes, it’s me,” he answered. It was only then that he noticed how weak he sounded. Suddenly he felt so very tired and hungry, energy leaving his body at the same pace of the blood leaving his veins. “You were right, Minseok. It’s impossible. I’ll never find him. It’s impossible.” His legs gave out as his sobs filled the air.

 

How pathetic of him. He was so useless.

 

“Come home, dear. Don’t make yourself search any longer.”

 

_ Come home, Jongdae _ , he could almost here Baekhyun’s voice say. He missed Baekhyun so much.

 

Jongdae went home.

 

-

 

**_Balsamic Moon_ **

 

-

 

Somewhere in the world, a man was hiding in a hospital closet. It was the 5th of May, the evening before he would turn 21. 

 

He knew something was wrong when he found himself nearly dead a few weeks prior to his birthday. Chanyeol had seemed so innocent before then; he couldn’t have ever imagined that the man who claimed to be his soulmate would ‘accidentally’ push him in front of a car. Everything had finally clicked together as he laid weak on his hospital bed. And because his soulmate couldn’t end his life those few weeks ago, Chanyeol was hunting for him to finish the job. 

 

The sound of his soulmate’s footsteps violently echoing around the hallway made his stomach churn harder and harder, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His body was quivering as he moved his head the tiniest bit to check his watch.

 

_ 10 more seconds. _

 

_ 9. _

 

The footsteps outside grew closer.

 

_ 8. _

 

_ 7. _

 

They grew closer still.

 

_ 6. _

 

_ 5. _

 

He had trusted Chanyeol so much, how could it end up this way?

 

_ 4. _

 

_ 3. _

 

An angry yell of his name echoed throughout the hallway, saturated with both frustration and fear.

 

_ 2. _

 

_ 1. _

 

The clock struck 12 and he cried silently in relief. He was 21 years old, and now both he and his soulmate would continue to age as normal. No more immortality. Now with nothing to gain, Park Chanyeol wouldn’t hurt him any longer. 

 

The horror was over. 

 

The cycle had ended.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I did my best to insert symbols into Poppies, the most prominent of which being the meaning of the flower itself. However, one piece of symbolism that was very easy to miss was the brief mentions of the phases of the moon. Chanbaek’s relationship began, developed, and ended at the same pace as the lunar cycle. 
> 
> I hope this provided some worthwhile extension to an otherwise frustrating ending. This was really hard for me to write, so I hope it was enjoyable as well.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> talk to me on my [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/chennychenchinchen) and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/jongdaeuwus)


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